Naʞed
by wheretheweeddecays
Summary: On the first day of his Seventh Year, Scorpius settled into the Head Boy position, accompanied by Rose alongside him as Head Girl. On the first day of his Seventh Year, Scorpius did not know how to work the bathrooms in the Head Boy and Girl's dormitories. So, you see, it wasn't his fault that he saw Rose Weasley naked.
1. I, Scorpius Malfoy,Have A Great Epiphany

On the first day of my Seventh Year, I screamed at the top of my lungs. I'd gotten the position Head Boy. I'd forgotten about the letter- buried beneath school supplies and old notes I caught up on over the summer- and when my mother had hugged me on the platform, wishing me "Good luck with the students," and telling me that I'd "make an superb Head Boy," I'd freaked. In a good way. I was on the train in 2 seconds flat, barrelling down the halls in a way that was quite irresponsible for a person of my position, throwing the door of my designated compartment as Head Boy open. There sat Al and Rosie. Both Al and Rosie were prefects, Al from Gryffindor, while Rosie and I from Ravenclaw. We still sat together in the Great Hall, as promoting House Unity was one of Hogwarts' main focuses these days, as compared to my father's time, most of which he'd relayed to me in my first year. He'd said that a lot of people would judge me before they knew me, because of my last name. For that, he'd said, he was sorry. I hadn't had too much of a problem. Nothing I couldn't deal with myself. Sure, when I'd been sorted into Ravenclaw instead of Slytherin, the hall had gone silent, but Rosie and Al, whom I'd met on the train earlier that day, had started an applause that eventually echoed throughout the hall. Afterwards, there had been various cases of name-calling and tripping, but I remained on my best behavior, and by Second Year, everybody and their mother knew that I was not whom they had thought I would be. I was a Malfoy, yes, bequeathed with white-blonde locks, pale skin, and a cold sneer, but I was also just Scorpius, the boy who always got O's and was nice to everyone who was nice to me. Sure, I was a little conceited and arrogant sometimes, but a lot of my fellow Ravenclaws were. It was just a House-given right. What's not to be proud of, coming from the smartest house in the school? Regardless, my dad was pleased that I hadn't been burned at the stake or lynched for being his son. Now, in Seventh Year, I was friends with almost everybody. The teachers adored me, the prefects looked up to me- I was a shoo-in for Head Boy. Merlin's Beard, I'm not sure why I was even surprised. I should have expected it, being as great as I am. But you can ignore all my rambling- you can read it in a biography one day, or perhaps an autobiography...no, that would be _too_ conceited, wouldn't it? It's better for others to praise me than for me to praise myself, isn't it? Regardless, my greatness brings me where I am now. In the Head's Compartment.

"Scor," Al adjusts his glasses on his face, a trait I had always found disfavorable. I didn't have 20/20 vision, but glasses told others that you had a flaw. Contacts were better to me- the muggles are quite genius. "What's on the Scorpius Malfoy show this time?" He's referring to the fact that I just blanked out as I thought of the above things. In Second Year he had once asked what I thought about when I went away to that "different world of mine," and I'd told him what I had been thinking. He'd immediately laughed, calling it the Scorpius Malfoy Show. I was better than that Michael J. Fox muggle, so I wasn't quite sure why the title of my show was reminiscent of his. Mine should be original. Better than is just as I was better than him. It was another thing I didn't like about Al. But every leading actor needed a supporting actor, and Al was that for me.

"Starring roles and supporting actors," I told him carelessly, "I'm the star, obviously, and you're my supporting actor."

"And what am I?" Rosie asked, brushing her wild mess of curls away from her freckled face. 2 of her many, _many _flaws. Rosie was more flawed than Al. Her hair was always messy and untameable, like fire and her face was dotted with clusters of concentrated melanin, ephelides that bore a remarkable semblance to constellations.

"You can be my love interest," I quirked a grin, leaning toward her. She flattened her back against the seat, a blush spreading into her cheeks. Yet another flaw. Rosie blushed way too often and for way too long. It was high time she looked into medical help- I'd read somewhere that both were early signs of Rosacea, or perhaps Idiopathic Craniofacial Erythema. Plus, it was always a good idea to be in control of your own emotions. Blushing was a sign of weakness. But regardless of her flaws, Rosie had liked me since Third Year. She could obviously see my brilliance, and I didn't want that to go away. There needed to be multiple biographies. There was only so many "fangirls" as Al called them that followed me around the school, and half of them can't spell their own name right, nevermind write a whole book. Rosie was smart- she could write 15 books in the time it took of of my fangirls to write a single sentence. And that was why I needed Rosie to continue crushing on me, perhaps even fall in love with me, so that she could produce a biography of yours truly, written word of praise to forever adorn the shelves. Rosie was also very close to the Librarian at Hogwarts, and I'm sure she could talk her into getting the book in the library for students in later generations to know of my brilliance.

"You're doing it again," Al reminded me.

"Right," I responded, "Rosie, once you write that biography, be sure to talk to the Librarian to have it stocked at Hogwarts. I think 5 copies should be enough, right?"

Rosie rolled her eyes, laughing at my newest amendment to my Biography scheme, "You are by far, the most conceited person I know."

"Sometimes I don't know if you're joking or not mate," Al grinned, "So, why'd you rush in here so crazily?"

"Oh, right," I grinned, "I'm Head Boy."

"Congrats, mate!" Al said, clapping me on the back, "Where's the pin?"

"In my bag somewhere, McGonagall should have made them a bit larger, they'd be harder to lose track of." I say easily.

"You're Head Boy?" Rosie's face looks gaunt. She looks even less attractive than usual like this, as it makes her freckles stand out and her hair seem even redder against her pale skin.

"Yes," I say, "What's the problem?"

"I'm Head Girl." She says, and it's quite the surprise for me. I didn't think Rosie would have gotten the position. But McGonagall had the tendency to ignore flaws. And I suppose having unmanageable hair and a rubbish complexion did not make up the qualifications of being Head Girl. As I'd said before, Rosie was smart, and she was quite responsible as well. No more than me, no, of course not- much less, but still; responsible.

"Congratulations Rosie," I smirk, "Looking forward to rooming with you." She ducked her head down, blushing that horrible red of hers. Frankly, it made her look like a tomato. An ugly, overripe tomato. But I suppose her smarts and head-on-her-shoulders attitude made up for it. Rosie was good study buddy material, _not _good girlfriend material.

* * *

"You may set the password to anything you please," McGonagall informed us crisply, "I trust you two will keep it school-appropriate."

"We will," Rosie assured the Headmistress with a smile. Once McGonagall had gone, she turned to me, "What do you want it to be?" Aw, she was so sweet- letting me choose?

"I don't know," I grinned, leaning closer to Rosie, "What do you?" I needed that biography.

"Change," Rosie whispered, looking up at me, "Change." Change? I could have done better.

"A great password dear!" The harpist depicted in the painting said as the door swung closed behind us, the password accepted and set. There was silence for a moment.

"Well then," I said cheerily, "We best get settled in."

"Right." Rosie said, glancing at the ground as she rushed off to her private dormitory, "I-I'll go now."

My room was decorated in bronze and blue hues, the colors of Ravenclaw scattered about the place. I plucked my wand from my back pocket, using it to enlarge a few necessities from my bags- the muggles invented this object called a mini-fridge, and paired with that, I had found a spell that lets electricity run on a renewable magic power source. I'd shrunken it into the size of my hand and stored it in my bag, complete with the insides intact, stocked with chilled Butterbeer up the whazoo. Genius, I know. There was also a few of my posters from my bedroom of various muggle bands. I was fond of the Beatles, Pink Floyd, and Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons. A radio was enlarged to sit beside my bed, and I'd also brought my laptop. Like I'd mentioned before, muggles were genius. And wizards had spells for everything as well, from electricity to wifi to cell towers. Once I was set, I made my way back into the common room. Rosie was reading a book by the fire. "Rosie dear," I remarked, "Meetings in 10."

She almost fell off the sofa in surprise, "Oh, give me a minute Scor, I'd nearly forgotten!" She placed her book on the coffee table and pulled her hair into a still-messy ponytail before turning to me once more, smiling sheepishly, "Sorry Scor." Yet another flaw. Rosie had the tendency to be late or forget things. It was a wonder she'd even become Head Girl with a flaw like that, but McGonagall must have realized that I would keep her on track.

The meeting between the heads and prefects was rather short. I liked to get straight to the point, no chitter-chatter or wayward conversations. It was a flaw I fortunately lacked, unlike many of my peers. Granted, it did take over an hour and a half, but I covered everything that previous Heads had covered in 3 hours. By the time the meeting was over, darkness had fallen on the grounds. Rose had gone up ahead of me while I had lagged behind to talk to Al before heading back to the Head's common room myself. I'd explored a majority of the common room, but had yet to explore the bathroom. I knocked on the door, and upon hearing nothing on the other side, entered.

It was a vast room, with windows charmed that we could see out and no one could see in. Despite this however, the silvery glow of the moonlight was cast over the white tiles. Once it reached the smooth, constant ripples of the water, the perfect image was tainted and skewed as the moon shone down. The walls were a calming white, like soft snow instead of unpainted walls. The tub was large, almost like a pool, and there were several steps falling down below into the crystal clear water. Everything was silent. On the far side of the pool was an indistinguishable shape cocooned in a white bath towel, red locks falling over terrycloth. Ivory toes tentatively touched the water, the source of the ripples in the previously still water. A long, smooth leg confidently stepped into the water, a second following it. The white terrycloth was dropped to the tile floor, and her wild, frizzy mane settled on her ivory skin. Like a swan, she glided into the water, the silvery moonlight casting a glow over her. Her red locks seemed prettier, her star-like freckles more beautiful, her odd complexion more fair than it ever was, and of any girl I had ever seen. Her curves, before hidden behind ignorant innocence, were stuck in my vision, the epitome of an ideal woman. She sank into the water abruptly, causing waves to lap water over the edge of the pool, and the spun, churning the water in a whirlpool around her. She was chaos, she was havoc, she was perfect. And she was Rose Weasley.

"Oh," She said, upon noticing me. A blush lit up her face like the fire she embraced in all aspects of her life.

"I'm sorry." I said, unsure of what I was saying, and backing up to the door, "I'm sorry." I grasped the doorknob and yanked it open, rushing back to my room, not quite fully aware yet that my life had turned upside down.


	2. I Am Sure I Am Crazy

She is the first thing on my mind when I wake up the next morning, her ivory skin in the silvery moonlight, her red locks like fire. She is a conundrum, a paradox, the sun and the moon rise and set in her entirety in synchronism. She is the first person that comes to mind when Al asks who I was dreaming about the previous night, because, he assures me, "It's quite obvious with the bags under your eyes and the dreamy look on your face." I deny all of this. However, it baffles even the great Scorpius Malfoy that I am so affected by the (admittedly stunning) sight of my best friend in such a state of indecency. She is merely my best friend. My best friend Rose Weasley, in all her imperfections.

When she sits next to Al and across from me in the Great Hall, I can't help but glance at her. Her hair still looks pretty, but there is no moonlight. It makes no sense. I'd come to the conclusion that the only reason I thought her pretty was because I was stunned by the beauty and purity of the Heads' bathroom, despite the irony of finding a place where you bathe pretty. I'd surmised that it was solely because of this, and that the next time I saw her, I would not be affected any longer. But here I was, the first time seeing her after the incident, which I'd referred to it as in my head ever since. Her ivory skin, in the light of the Great Hall, takes on a golden hue instead of a silver one, and I cannot choose which I like better.

"Scor, you're doing it again," Al says, and for the first time since Second Year, he is wrong about the Scorpius Malfoy Show. Because for the first time since Second Year, it's not the Scorpius Malfoy show- it's the Rose Weasley show, and I hate it.

"Can you blame me?" I ask, smirking as a shamelessly praise myself, "I am pretty great."

"Isn't it one of your rules," Rosie starts, and I'm immediately catapulted into memories of Third Year. Rules. The Rules of Scorpius Malfoy. The Rules of Perfection. I'd thought them up, the lot of them, one Hogsmeade evening, and had been adding to the list ever since. "To always be in control of your emotions?" She finishes, looking up at me.

"Glad you remembered Rosie, what about it?" I ask, feeling rather confused.

"Well, need I remind you of the...incident?" She asks, and I can see a glimmer of hope in her eyes. She hopes that I will like her. I don't like disappointing her, but she's right- having control over my emotions is one of my rules, as is never falling for anyone, both would be broken in two if I ever liked her as more than a friend. But alas, her reference to the 'incident' pulls at the strings in my mind, untying ever knot, opening every door and every box that kept the memories of last night at bay, and they flood in, catching me unaware- _Like a swan, she glided into the water, the silvery moonlight casting a glow over her. Her red locks seemed prettier, her star-like freckles more beautiful, her odd complexion more fair than it ever was, and of any girl I had ever seen- _

"Scor, are you..._blushing?" _Al chokes on his bread as he asks the question. Immediately, I stare at my reflection in the silver platter on the table. There are two red splotches adorning my cheeks, maring my features and causing me to look like a tomato. Now _I'm _the one who might be showing early signs of Rosacea. And what, because I saw my best friend undressed?

"No!" I say, and upon realizing it's a little loud as every student in a 5-foot radius turns to look at me, I continue in a quieter voice, "I-I mean, huh, isn't it a little hot in here?" I'd stuttered. Yet another flaw I did not previously have.

"You are!" Al grins, "Are you thinking about that girl from your dreams?" Oh no.

"ALBUS SEVERUS POTTER!" I shriek, pushing myself up from the table and causing several plates on it to clatter and rattle slightly, "Shut up, shut up, shut up!" My face is probably tomato red by now, I don't want to look down at the silver platter because once I see myself in such a state, I will never be able to get rid of the image. It'll haunt me the rest of my flawed years.

"And it's the downfall of the oh-so-perfect Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy!" Al cracks a grin, clapping and laughing, "So, Scor, who is she?"

"Shut up!" I say again, avoiding Rosie's eyes- she obviously knows, but I don't want to look at her. It would only confirm my (non-existent) flaws. I could get over this hurdle, this obstacle in my way. This was simply a test of my perfection, my superiority, was it not? To see if I would be pulled down from my pedestal by a thing as barbarian as lust. I would prosper, despite temptation.

"C'mon Scor," Al whines. He sounds like a child, another thing I cannot stand about him. He's ridiculously immature and petulant at times, and I'm sure it would drive any sane person up the wall.

"I think you should tell him," Rosie says nonchalantly, "Best if he knows now, as oppose to hearing about it later, because one of us is bound to slip up at one point." One of us, meaning _her. _The inability to keep secrets is a major flaw, not on mine part of course.

"If you say so Rosie," I clear my throat, and begin speaking quite diplomatically, "Al, I do not like anyone. Last night Rose merely did not hear me knock, and so I was not aware that Rose was in the bathroom when I walked in, and so-"

"That's my cousin you ninny! You like my cousin!" Al barks, red anger overcoming his face.

"_No, _I do not _like _your cousin, I just merely...walked in on her accidentally." I fold my hands on the table, rolling my eyes at his incompetence.

"Did you apologize?" Al asks, then pauses, laughing, "I forget who I'm talking to, of course you didn't apologize- apologizing means you had something to be sorry for, which means being wrong, and you're _never _wrong." His last words are quite obviously sarcastic, but I let him slide. I'm about to retort that of course I'm always right and I shouldn't have to apologize for her mistake when Rose speaks instead.

"Actually Al, he said sorry- twice," She turns to me and smiles, her blue eyes lighting up like the ocean's surface under the sun's rays. I find myself dumbstruck for a few seconds before realizing that this is the temptation I have to resist, and so I do. Then, I realize what she's just said- that I'd apoligized. I hadn't apologized. Had I? I thought back to the previous night. I had. Just as she relayed, I'd said sorry twice. Twice. Al was right, it was one of my rules- never apologize for something as it means you were wrong and want to be repentant for it.

"You apologized?" Al asks, looking at me as if I had just said I'd subscribed to Teen Witch. Frankly, I'd be less surprised myself if it had been the latter.

"Yes," I say, easily coming up with an excuse, "Even though it was Rose's fault for not hearing me knock, it was still the gentlemanly thing to do in such a situation."

"I suppose so," Al glances down at the table, "Okay, you're forgiven, but no funny business, got it?"

"Funny business? Al, don't think so poorly of me, I know better than _that."_ I scoff, brushing off an imaginary piece of dust off my dress shirt for effect, "Really Al, it makes me shudder to even _think _of that!" With that, it's forgotten. Al and Rosie go back to their own normal moods, and our chatter is directed away from "the incident." Everything is perfect once more, just the way it should be, and just the way I liked it.

* * *

It being our Seventh year, we were prepping for OWLS which had to be taken at the very end of the school year. In other words, we were reviewing what we'd learned for those who weren't as smart and didn't retain as much as certain others, namely, me. I had gotten O's in all of my classes since First Year, and had never gotten a detention or even merely a warning once. It was something I was proud of, the inability to focus was yet another flaw I didn't have. I walked into potions with Al by my side, settling down in our usual spot. It was alphabetical seating, so unfortunately for Rosie, whose last name began with a W to my M and Al's P, she was quite a ways away from us. The seats looped like a snake, starting with A's and ending with Z's. Al and I were somewhere in the middle alphabetically, but due to the minimal number of fellow students with names starting with A-L, we were in the back of the room, only in the second row, as opposed to Rosie who was seated in the front of the room, the very last row in the room. I placed my Potions book on my desk, flipping it open to the instructed page on the board. Babbling Beverage. We'd long since learned how to make that. _Mince 4 legs of an average house spider, Crush 7 Asphodel flowers, add the eye of an eel, and chop 12 leaves of Dittany. Stir two times clockwise, and be sure not to add too much Dittany or else it'll release a potent gas that could potentially knock you out. _It's side effects are very similar to that of Amortentia, but does not induce obsession. I remembered it by heart. As Al jokingly waved the jar of spider legs in the air as I got the ingredients sorted I cast a glance over to Rosie, who was paired with the muggle born Amelia Womball. Womball wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, so Rosie took over the work. She was doing an excellent job really, and unlike Al, hadn't managed to get anything on her hands. Was it possible for someone to look that pretty while making a potion in class? She stuck her tongue out as she worked, a flaw of hers, which I found oddly cute. Her hands worked rapidly, mincing the spider legs as if she were a professional. Her nose was scrunched up like she always does when she's concentrating, but her eyes lit up because she was the type that loved to learn.

"Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy!" Al waved his hand in front of my face, "If you add one more thing of Dittany, we're both going to be out cold!"

"What?" I said, looking down at my hands. There were 4 leaves of Dittany left out of the 20, which meant I'd put in 16 instead of 12, "Al…there's only 4 left."

"What?!" Al shrieked, gaining the attention of the entire room. He grasped the rim of the cauldron on both sides, tipping it towards us slightly, "But there's no-" He promptly dropped to the ground like a rock. I swept my gaze from Al to the foggy gas. It smelled sweet, like Al's grandma's chocolate chip cookies, fresh cut grass on a good Quidditch day, and Rosie's vanilla perfume- I wilted to the floor.

* * *

"Mate would you get _off _of me?!" Al asked, "Why the heck were you out so long?" What? Why was I on him?

"What?" I asked blearily, "What happened?" The last thing I remembered was putting Dittany in the potion...

"Too much Dittany!" Professor Cromwell loomed over us, "Mr. Potter, you best not start the year like this!" Whoops, should I tell her it was me and not Albus? Nah...

"Actually," Al said, "Not to throw him under the bus or anything, but Scor here was the one putting in the Dittany." Thanks Al, way to not cover for me.

"Mr. Malfoy, what happened?" Professor Cromwell looked surprised, and honestly, I was too.

"Uh…" I couldn't get out of this one, could I? "I-I was distracted…" I say sheepishly, already feeling my face burning.

"Are you feeling alright Mr. Malfoy? You're burning up." Professor Cromwell asked, concernedly. I was fine- a little embarrassed, mortified, and humiliated, but fine.

"I'll kill you!" Al shrieks, smacking the back of my head, "She's my cousin! You do _not _get to like her!" Why did he have to keep bringing it up?

"I _don't!"_ I retort, shoving him off of me, "Would you cut it out with that?"

"You're showing all the signs!" Al waved his hands dramatically, "It's obvious!"

"It's obvious that _you're _an idiot." I mutter under my breath before standing up and dusting off my pants, grinning, "Now, now, Al. You know very well that sucumming to feelings is a flaw I lack. I do not fancy her cousin like such. She is merely my best friend."

"Yeah right!" Al says, and I glare at him because he can't get it through his thick head that his cousin, although pretty, is not for me. I was Scorpius Malfoy, and I would only be with someone as perfect as I was. And that, that was _not _Rose Weasley.


	3. I Hate My Best Friend

**AN: Probably should have written an AN on the first chapter. Whoops. Sorry guys. Anyway, thanks for reviewing, favoriting, alerting, and even viewing! ****It really does mean a lot and motivates me to write more. If you have any ideas or requests for an event to happen, feel free to PM or comment it in. I'm all for it, as long as it's not crazy...**

**To Min0r Details - I added another sentence for clarification about the Amortentia thing. The potions mentioned in the books/movies, but it's not delved into and the ingredients and/or side effects are not listed, so I made that up myself. Thanks for the recommendation though, and I'm glad you liked Scorpius' character.**

**To Han &amp; Guest - First off, Han, I love your name. Really, it's amazing. (Do you mind if I use it for a story? I'll totally mention you in the dedication) Secondly, I am so absolutely glad that you both love Scorpius' character. It was kind of top-of-the head thing, as I thought of the title (down to the backwards K) before I thought of a plot. From there, I just kinda wrote. Scorpius ended up sounding really arrogant by the second paragraph or so, so I went and added arrogance to the first paragraph and went on writing like that for the rest. I'm so glad you liked it, I was a little bit worried that I'd get hate for (somewhat) trashing Scorpius' character. Glad I didn't. **

**Anyway, I hope you all enjoy the story and I am _so _sorry for the long Author's note. You don't have to read if you don't want to. Oh! I need a disclaimer- I'm not JK Rowling and I don't own Harry Potter. (If I ever become a world famous author and my book has a fanfiction category on here I am so claiming it and watching everyone freak. Maybe I'll post Alternate endings or drafts of the book...)**

For the next few days, Al would not shut up about it. He'd told Frank and Carter, both of whom could not keep their mouths shut. Carter had even sighed, clucking his tongue and telling me he wished he'd been there to see it and snap a picture of it. I'd promptly shoved him to the floor and called him Creevey for the first time in my life. Frank Longbottom on the other hand, had just laughed, telling me that "it was about time," well, he was as crazy as his grandfather had been. The two barmy idiots really believed Al- as if I, Scorpius bloody Malfoy, could ever like a girl who wasn't perfect. Rosie was not perfect, in fact, she was the farthest thing from perfect I knew. Flaws were imperfections, and imperfections tarnished any perfectness a person had the potential to have. Rosie's flaws, as minuscule as they were, built up to create a very imperfect image. My lack of flaws were the reason I was perfect, unlike my peers. And the great Scorpius Malfoy would never be pulled down to less than perfection by dating someone beneath him or god forbid- sucumming to the ever-temptational thing known as feelings. It was a known fact- even the teachers had it engraved in their brains.

After a strong reprimanding in Potions (the first in my entire life) and a not-so-deserved detention, I'd brushed off the punishment, saying that the teacher was just in a bad mood and it wasn't my fault at all- because it wasn't. Rosie should have called out when I knocked- or better yet, she should have locked the bloody door! Maybe then, I wouldn't have detention. Regardless, I sat in the Head's Common Room playing Wizard's Chess with Al, whom I had given the password to the Head's dormitories to, with Rosie's permission of course. "Bishop to 4A." Al says, grinning like he knows he's going to win. He always has that same look- and yet, I am the one who always wins. You could say I'm smarter than him, because really, I am.

"Knight to 4A." My night knocks over Al's bishop as he curses. The game isn't over yet, but soon it will be.

"Knight to 8B." Al says, his ever-present grin back on once again.

"Pawn to 6A." I say, just as Rosie walks into the Common Room, wild locks flying out behind her.

"I can't believe her! That bloody tart thinks that she can call me out for something I didn't even do! That witch!" Rosie vents, scrunching up her nose in a way that really shouldn't be cute but really is.

"What are you talking about Rosie?" I grin involuntarily, turning my attention from the chess game to Rosie.

"Professor Cromwell is what bloody happened! She gave me a detention for no reason whatsoever!" Rose vented, waving her hands around dramatically.

"Bishop to 8C." Al cuts in.

"8A to King, er, King to 8E." I correct myself, not bothering to look at Al and instead, keeping my attention on Rosie, "So what didn't you do?" I ask, studying her frustrated features. How is it possible to look cute when you're angry?

Rosie smiled sheepishly, "I may or may not have taken a quick peek in the Restricted section- but only because I really wanted to know about Andromeda Kane! I do not believe that it's her that murdered the O'Malleys, her husband obviously did it because Andromeda had an affair with Nicholas O'Malley and was jealous."

"Pawn to 8E." Al shrieks delightedly.

I raise an eyebrow at Rosie, tilting my head toward Rosie and making the crazy gesture with my finger. She laughs, and I grin. "Knight to 4B. Well, Rosie, I happen to have detention with Cromwell as well, so I'll be seeing you there."

"I forgot about that!" Rosie laughs again, "What even happened-"

"PAWN TO 8F! PAWN TO 8F! CHECKMATE! CHECKMATE! CHECKMATE!" Al screams, jumping out of his seat and almost flipping over the board. I stare at the board in surprise, and sure enough, Al's mere pawn has wiped out my Queen.

"No fair, I was distra-" I flush, cutting off my sentence. Whoops, that would be admitting a non-existent flaw in the focus of my attention.

"Thank god you walked in Rosie," Al says cheerily, "You're quite sufficient at distracting Scor it seems, first Potion, now Wizard's Chess, one might think he even-"

"I am going to kill you Al!" I push his chair backwards and it hits the ground. He rolls off of it laughing on the floor.

"Potions?" Rosie asks shyly, blushing. Oh. Oh no. She does not look cute when she blushes, no, not one bit, not at all- "Scor, focus- potions?" She asks again.

"I- um, I m-mean, w-well-" I stutter. Someone please help me. I'm bloody stuttering. What's wrong with me? Wait- there's nothing wrong with me, I'm Scorpius Malfoy, and-

Al cracks up again, "Merlin's beard Scor-" I flush red, and he turns to Rosie, "This git here got distracted and added too much Dittany to the potion."

"Shut up!" I say again, my face probably gaining even more of a semblance to the color of beetroot.

"Nah, I'm good." Al grins, "And do you know why he got distracted Rosie? No? Well, I'll tell you. He-" I whip out my wand and cast Silencio on him, rendering my best friend unable to make any noise. I know he's not good at silent spells so it'll take him a while to get out of it.

"But I want to know." Rosie says, pointing her wand at Al, "And you know that I can fix him."

I roll my eyes, because I know she's right, "I got distracted because of you, okay? Now just fix him and kick him out, okay?" I turn on my heel and march up the stairs to my dormitory, closing the door behind me and flopping down on my bed, spread eagle. This temptation thing is plaguing me big time. But I'd overcome it. I'd fix it, just as I always did. My perfect image wasn't tainted yet- it wouldn't be tainted until these feelings were permanent. Until my focus wasn't permanently distracted. Then I'd be officially imperfect. All I had to do to retain my perfectness was ignore the temptation and get over it before it got worse and became permanent. I groaned, rolling over and squashing my face into my pillow. And I'd thought being a Head would be the hardest thing Seventh year.


	4. I Know Conclusions Suck

**AN: Oh my god this the most reviews/views/alerts/etc. I have ****_ever _****gotten on a fanfic. I love you guys. You're awesome. I'm sorry these chapters are so short, but there will probably be a lot of them, it's just my writing style- many short chapters vs few long chapters. Anyway, I have to go because my cat is trying to climb on top of my head (no joke, she's trying to paw me up). Enjoy!**

The day after the infamous chess game, Al, Frank, and Creevey bugged me like crazy. The three were getting on my nerves more often than not, forcing me to have to avoid them. The only problem in this? That meant I'd have to find a good partner for various classes, which only left Rosie to choose from. Not that I didn't enjoy her company, because I did, and that in itself was the problem. I didn't _want _to enjoy her company. As a friend, sure, but thinking she was cute when she got angry was _not _on the best friend list. Al wasn't cute when he was angry. He looked kind of psychotic actually, one eyebrow raised and the other furrowed, one eye squinted and the other wide and crazed. I didn't like to be around Al when he was really angry. Rosie on the other hand, was more of a subdued anger. She'd never gotten that angry at me, well, ever. Only at other people, and Merlin's beard she looked cute when she was mad.

In potions I was still stuck with Al as my partner however, and he insisted on being the one to put the important stuff in this time, as if I'd _really _be distracted _again. _One time was enough- more than enough really. I wouldn't be tempted again. Ever. In the mean time, I ignored Binns' prolonged speech about the History of Magic, instead choosing to slump on my desk in boredom. This was quite normal for me however, but any time he'd call on me, I'd still know the answer, genius that I am. I didn't need to pay attention to his lessons to understand. I glanced at Rosie next to me, who seemed to be the only one actually paying attention. She glanced from Binns to her paper and then back again, her red locks bouncing as she jotted some notes on her paper. Her blue eyes were wide, drinking in the knowledge, and she spoke the words she wrote.

"Mr. Malfoy!" Binns said cheerily, "You always know the answer,"

"Uh, what?" I asked, coming out of my daze as I sharply turned my focus from Rosie back to Binns.

"The answer, Mr. Malfoy." Binns grinned encouragingly.

"Right," I say weakly, "What, uh- what was the question?"

"I asked who wrote the History of Magic," He repeated, "Are you feeling okay, Mr. Malfoy?"

"Yeah, yeah, just fine." I say, "Bathilda Bagshot, sir."

"Thank you Mr. Malfoy! Bathilda Bagshot indeed! Now, as I was saying…" Binns continued and I tuned him out, groaning and hitting my head against the desk. This temptation was a little harder to resist than I thought.

* * *

"Scor," Al pops his head into the Head's dormitory, "Don't forget you have detention." I'd forgotten.

"Bloody hell!" I say, rolling off my bed and nearly crashing to the ground, "Great, I'm going to be late."

"Nah," Al says, "Rosie's stalling for you."

"Oh," I stop in the middle of tugging on my shoe, "That's nice of her."

"Well hurry then!" Al says, gesturing for me to continue getting ready.

"Right, right," I say, tugging on my other shoe and bolting out the door, Al in tow.

I end up getting there in under 2 minutes, just as Cromwell's turning around the hall to enter the room. I enter and close the door behind me, scrambling into my seat just as she opens the door. Rosie shoots me a wide grin and I can't help but smile in response.

"Mr. Malfoy, Miss Weasley," Cromwell begins, "Since Mr. Malfoy is not adept at making an adequate Babbling Beverage, he will be recreating one. Miss Weasley, since you are so insistent upon disregarding Library Regulations, you may shelf books in the Library."

"Professor Cromwell, Babbling Beverage requires two people and I am unable to reach some higher shelves in the library at my height, wouldn't it be easier to simply have to have the two of us do both together?" Rosie says, her words have just the right about of diplomacy and persuasion, so much so, that even I, the unswayable Scorpius Malfoy, find myself agreeing with her.

"Exactly, Professor Cromwell," I say, "Rosie's idea is ingenious, plus, I'm quite tall in order to reach the books and she's very good at Potions-"

"Alright, I suppose that will work. Potion first please," Cromwell says, regarding me with a skeptic eye, "Though I do believe this is the first time I have ever heard you compliment someone other than yourself Mr. Malfoy, keep up with it and maybe people will think more of your character." She walks off without another word. I shouldn't have complimented Rosie, now Cromwell thinks I'm up to something, and Rosie, Rosie's probably going to-

She smiles shyly, blushing as she brushes a lock of hair behind her ear, "Thanks Scor," I should compliment her more.

* * *

"So," Rosie says as we mix the potion, "Too much Dittany?" I flush involuntarily, ducking my head down, and don't respond. Responding would be admitting a mistake, making my perfect image not so perfect after all.

"It's okay Scor," Rosie says gently, "You know, we all make mistakes. It's human error."

"But _I _don't!" I burst out against my will, "I've _never _messed up on a potion!"

"We've all gotta start somewhere, don't me?" Rosie jokes, but upon seeing my solemn face, she curbs her laughter, "Scor, let me tell you bluntly- you're not perfect."

"Oh, and I suppose you are?" I ask bitterly, glaring at her.

"Me? Perfect!? Far from it!" Rosie laughs, but sombers up quickly, "No, I didn't mean it like that Scor. I meant that _no one _is perfect. It's impossible. I know you think you are, and I think you're pretty dang close, but you're never going to be completely perfect. No one is." She stirs the potion, and continues, "You see, you dismissed the Dittany, right? But if another had done such a thing, instead of yourself, you'd regard them as imperfect and would never forget it." I had no idea just how she actually understood me, because I'd never told her this, and I hadn't told Al either so he couldn't have told her.

"Scor," She sighs, resting the spoon across the cauldron, "You don't need to be perfect. If you want to be close to it, then that's fine- but you can't look down at others for not wanting to."

"Oh," I say, and then not wanting to look stupid in front of Rosie, "I knew that."

She huffs, glaring at me, "Right. Why do I even bother, you're not even listening to me."

"I am!" I cry out feebly, "I just-" I shuffle my feet, "Why now? I was doing fine before. Why does it all have to go downhill _now?_"

"How am I supposed to know?" Rosie sends me a mystified glance, "Figure it out for yourself. It's like tracing back your steps when you lose something- trace back you steps to the reason you lost your focus." And so, I did. The real reason, arrogance and perfectness aside, I traced it all back. And I came to a very brief, very startling, very mortifying conclusion. I had never had a crush before, and the girl in front of me was my very first.


	5. What I Will Never Be

**AN: Before you all go crazy on me, I want to let you know that I meant to not capitalize Scorpius' name at the very end of this chapter. I do appreciate you guys correcting my grammar (I've fixed it, although I've yet to repost it) but this is ****_not _****one of those cases. Now for replies...**

**Stromsten: I'm getting to it, don't worry. Rose understands Scorpius better than most of his friends (it's discussed in this chapter) and the topic of Scorpius' attention on her even before all this happened will be covered, just much later on. **

**Han: Thanks, I just really love it. I'm glad you appreciate the difference in characters as well. **

**Accioglasses98: Whoops, I didn't notice that. I edited it (thanks for pointing it out by the way) and I'll repost it soon. Thanks!**

**Guest: Why don't you have a name? I want to credit you for fixing my grammar! Like I said to Accioglasses98, I edited but just haven't reposted it yet. Thanks though, I didn't catch that. **

**Invisible Scars: No worries, we're getting to a lot of Rosie-centric interaction. As for Scor, well, he's supposed to be like that. Well, not like a ****_girl _****per say, but more vain and conceited than most guys. I'm glad the short chapters work. This ones a tad bit longer (I think) but nothing too dramatic. **

**Hampton, TexGleek15, Purple Pizza: Thanks! I'm glad you guys like the story.**

In the moments I realize this I stand there open-mouthed in shock. I had a crush on _Rose _bloody _Weasley. _My _best friend. _Al would never let me hear the end of it. Creevey and Frank would laugh. The whole school would go up in hysterics. My fan girls would faint in their spots. It would be a disaster if anyone found out, and by the way things were looking right now, they probably would soon. Plus, if they did realize that I, Scorpius Malfoy, had even the tiniest bit of a crush on Rosie, they'd think that I wasn't as perfect as I made myself out to be. And yeah, I took Rosie's words to heart, but I'd been perfect for years, how could I just stop now? Regardless, at that moment, my thoughts zoomed like Durmstrang quidditch players, zigzagging around and crossing paths, just narrowly avoiding crashing into each other and risking danger, just for the thrill. My mind was a jumbled mess and I didn't know how to clean it up.

"Scor?" Rosie asked, waving a hand in front of my face, "Are you okay?"

"What? Yeah, fine." I say, blinking myself back to reality.

"Okay, well the potions done now," Rosie smiles, "Let me just put it in a vial and set it on Professor Cromwell's desk."

"Right," I say weakly, because how in the world am I supposed to deal with something like this? How am I supposed to deal with unwillingly finding her attractive when I never have before, not just with her, but anyone?

* * *

"Are you sure you're feeling alright?" Rosie asks again as we walk to the library to shelve the books.

"Yeah." I say shortly, keeping my gaze directed on the ground instead of on her.

Rosie huffs, "If you say so." We're at the library 2 minutes tops, and as soon as we get there, Rosie briskly walks over to the librarian, Ms. French, and asks her where the books that need to be shelved are. I linger by the door instead of follow her over to the desk.

"Oh Rosie," Ms. French smiles, shaking her head, "I told you that I'd let you borrow the book if you had just waited instead of going into the Restricted section. The carts over there in the corner." She catches sight of me and her smile abruptly drops and turns into a scowl. She's not that fond of me, but I can see where she's coming from. I mean, I'd made fun of the woman more times than I can count with Al, Frank, and Creevey, and she's probably heard most of it. It also doesn't help that I've been kicked out of the library several times on account of being disruptive, "Mr. Malfoy. What brings you here?"

"I, uh," I start, shifting on my feet, "I have to shelf books too."

Ms. French rolls her eyes, "No surprise there. Well, you two can work together. Rosie, if you'd be a dear and do teach him how they're supposed to be shelved."

"Of course Ms. French," Rosie smiles and tugs on my hand, pulling me toward the cart of books. I immediately flush, involuntarily freaking out on the inside because she's bloody _touching _me, and her skin feels so _soft _and delicate and- Ms. French clears her throat and I snap out of it as she looks at me amusedly, turning an even darker red.

"Well, c'mon then Scor!" Rosie smiles, and I'm led over by the books. The carts on this side of the shelves, only 10 feet or so away from Ms. French, which means if anything happens that could possibly cause me to be completely mortified, she'll see it. Rosie stands to the left of the car and I nearly trip over my feet to get to the right side because I don't want to be distracted yet again. She picks up the first book and turns to me with a smile, "The is _A Day in the Life of Jason Melville." _Who the heck was that? "It's a biography." This wasn't working. "Normally the shelf is farther away, but lucky for us, the biography shelves are actually right here!" Her eyes light up when she's happy, and it's actually really pretty. "Now, since this is by Ambrose Woodstreet it goes in the W section at the very bottom of the biography shelf." Like really, _really _pretty. It's like looking into the depths of the Black Lake. "And in between Woodhouse and Wright." You could drown in them, sink to the bottom of the Lake and never come back up for air. "Got it?"

"What?" I ask, then realize that I've caught absolutely none of her speech. Oh, this is bad. This is really bad. This is really, _really-_

Rosie chuckles, "It's alphabetical order Scor, I'm sure you can figure it out yourself."

"Right," I say, my cheeks burning as Ms. French laughs from behind us. I grab the next book- _Amortentia: A Guide. _Figures. "I'mjustgonnagoshelfthis." And I dart around the other side of the shelves. As I shelf the books, I can't help but glance at her every once in while. She looks like she's in her element, at home. It's not odd for a Ravenclaw to spend a lot of time in the library, but there are some that are different, and I'm one of the few that don't. Rosie is however, which is why she's such great friends with Ms. French. It's a whole minute later that I realize that I'm not even thinking about the humiliation of this situation like I'd originally planned, and instead thinking about _her. _There's no one to see the redness of my cheeks this time, which I'm grateful for, and I wait till it dies down to grab a book from the cart. Rosie's already there when I get there, so I snatch the book on top, hoping to get out of there quickly. The only problem? Rosie reaches for it the same time I do, and her fingers trace across my palm as I retract my hand, my face heating up yet again.

"S-sorry about that." I say, ducking my head down and not meeting her eye.

"You're definitely not feeling alright," Rosie says, "Maybe you have a fever-" She goes to put her hand on my forehead and check my temperature and I reel backwards, crashing into the shelf behind me and hitting my heads in the wood. Why can't I stop acting like this?

"Ow!" I rub my head, pouting a little, trying my best not to blush all that much.

Rosie chuckles amusedly, "Okay then, Scor. Well, there's only a few books left, so we're almost done. And then you can rest for a little while. You definitely need it." We finish shelving the rest of the books pretty quickly, with no more awkward encounters between the two of us. Ms. French calls out for us to move the cart back to the front, so Rosie and I push it back to the original spot against the shelf. She opens her mouth to say something but notices something behind me and her eyes go wide, "Oh shoot, I told Amelia that I'd help her with Astronomy and I'm late, I'll see you later Scor!" And then, she leans up and kisses my cheek. It's action that she's done a million times before and will probably do a million times after, but it's something that hasn't happened since my revelation. And it turns my entire brain into mush. It's worse than just a brush of the hand, because there's bloody _sparks _and all I seem to be able to think about is her lips on my own lips instead of just on my cheek. I sink to the floor, back against the shelves, with what's probably a stunned expression on my face.

"Scorpius," Ms. French laughs, "If it means anything, it happens to everyone eventually."

"What?" I ask, snapping out of whatever it is that I was in.

She chuckles, "Everyone has a crush at some point. It's just life."

My cheeks flush and my mouth goes dry, "Is it that obvious?"

She nods, wincing a little, "To everyone but her probably, well, you should get back to your dorm. Good night Scorpius."

"'Night Ms. French." I say before heading back to the Heads' dorm. When I got there, I collapsed on the sofa, staring up at the ceiling, grinning.

"Mate?" Al ducked his head up from behind the opposing loveseat, followed by Frank Longbottom and Dylan Thomas, "You okay?"

"Yeah…" I trailed off, not really completely responding, as I was thinking of today's events. Or, in better words- _Rosie. _

"Are you on something from Uncle George's shop?" Al asked, raising an eyebrow, "Because you look sorta dreamy." All I consciously heard? Al interrupting my thoughts.

"No," I say, "I'm not _on _anything." I felt like it though. Maybe there was something in the food, because even though I felt majorly off my game, I felt pointlessly happy for no given reason.

"SCOR-ATTACK!" Frank jumped up, throwing a pillow at me. Not quite out of my trance which rendered me unable to catch myself, I fell off the sofa and crashed to the ground.

"Ow! Really Frank?" I asked, rubbing my elbow which stung a little.

Frank laughed, "Hey look, Scor's back!"

"Yeah," Al says, a bewildered expression on his face, "What was with that?"

"N-nothing!" I say, and then immediately realize my mistake as Al picks up a pillow and starts hitting me with it.

"You complete _git! _I _told you, _that's my _cousin!" _He shrieks, "You can bed any bloody girl you want but _not my cousin!" _

"It's not even like that!" I defend myself, pushing the pillow away.

"Sure it isn't!" Al says sarcastically, trying to maneuver the pillow around my hands, "Like you'd ever actually like her."

"I do!" I say, forced to lie on the ground to get out of the pillow's range, "Have you ever noticed how cute she looks when she concentrates? Or how pretty her eyes look when they light up because she's talking about something she loves? Or-" Al hits my face with the pillow now that I've lost focus in defending myself, "-ow."

"Then why'd you come in here all dreamy?!" Al asked, holding the pillow above me in a threatening manner.

"She kissed my cheek." I grin goofily, bringing my finger up to trace the spot where her lips were pressed against my skin. It's silent for a moment, then Al abruptly starts cracking up and rolls around on the floor laughing. Frank follows suit and Dylan just looks bewildered.

"I-" Al cracks up again, "I can't take it!" He laughs some more, "Make it stop! Merlin's beard Scor-" He catches his breath again, "C-crushing on Rosie?!"

My cheeks flush red, "Shut up Al."

"Ha- you're blushing! Oh, this is great. This is so great." He grins, "I can't wait till she walks in and Scor makes an idiot out of himself."

"What are you three even doing in here?" I mutter, changing the subject as I sit up again.

"Gryffindor common room got too crowded." Dylan said, "And Finnigan was singing some bloody Irish songs again. Hate the guy." Angus Finnegan was indeed a bit annoying and he couldn't sing for his life, despite his beliefs. It didn't help that all he sung were Irish Folk songs which didn't match his pitch at all, if you could even say he had any.

"And so, we came here-" Frank said as the door burst open and Rosie walked in.

Upon seeing the four of us on the floor, she raised an eyebrow, and then glared at me, "Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy, you _know _that if McGonagall sees non-Heads in the Heads dorm at this hour she'll have our heads. Plus, you guys ripped the pillow!"

"Oooo," Frank grinned, "Scor is getting yelled at-" Rose sent him a death glare and he immediatly shut up.

"That's what I thought," She continued pleasantly, "Now, if you are not a Head, then please GET OUT OF THIS DORM!" Al, Frank, and Dylan scrambled out of the dorm each with a 'Sorry Rosie!' As the door swung closed behind them, she turned to me, "Scor, I don't want my position removed. I get that you miss bunking with the guys but you do realize that it's almost curfew."

"In my defense," I grin, "They were in here before I arrived."

"Oh." Rosie says quietly, "Sorry then." An awkward silence follows. It's unbearable and smothering, yet I can't think of something to say to break it. And so, I sit there on the floor like the _idiot _I am, withering in the deadly silence. It gives me time to think though, and for that, I'm grateful. Because it's only then that I realize I'd just insulted myself for the first time, doubted my capabilities, demeaned myself with crude words. In all my years, I had only done that unto others. Now I was stuttering, losing focus, complimenting others, and insulting myself. All because of _her. _I decided that I didn't like having a crush, despite the happy feeling that was nestled inside me, because it was the first domino to fall. The rest had fallen as a result of it, my life, my perfection, reduced to shambles. Where had the Great Scorpius Malfoy gone? Where was the star of the Scorpius Malfoy show? Hidden under a great big pile of horrid lovesickness for his best friend? I didn't like it. I wanted the old me back. The one who had the means and the capability, the confidence to be perfect. I didn't want to the the not-so-great scorpius malfoy who spent his time mooning over Rose Weasley. I was not him. I would never be him. Regardless of what seemed to be playing out, I would never be that not-so-great scorpius malfoy.


	6. I Think My Life Is Really Messed Up

**AN: Hey guys! Sorry for the delay, i've had Robotics 24/7 and still do so I won't be able to update as much but I'll try my best, alright? Here's the next chapter. I'm also slowly fixing the rest of 'em for the grammar and mistakes you guys point out. Thank you and keep up the good work.**

**On an entirely unrelated note, I had a lengthy conversation with the guy I like (who's also in Robotics) so I'm in a pretty good mood. Now for replies...**

** .16: Thank you for reviewing...5 times! Really, you're awesome, it made me so happy! So: Thanks, thanks, thanks, thanks, thanks. I think that's five thank yous. I'm glad you like the story so far, and I just wanted to say that I did the whole Dean's/Seamus' kids hating eachother thing as just an off-hand comment but I might actually incorporate it in to the story- or possible into any future stories as well. **

It's useless trying to pay attention when she's around, something I'd rather not admit aloud but also something that couldn't be more true. Al asks me not longer after why I'd had to borrow a book on Werewolves from the library when we'd reviewed them in class and all I had done was wince and he'd immediately known. Fortunately, no one else in our year seemed to pick it up, including Rosie herself. I would be completely mortified if she ever found out. It was why I had to end it and why it had to end soon. There'd be no Great Scorpius Malfoy if this kept going on.

We're in Defense Against the Dark Arts, when the teacher, Miss Jewel, calls on me, "Scorpius, would you like to volunteer?" Volunteer? For _what? _

"Uhh…" I choked out, I hadn't exactly been paying attention to Miss Jewel or the lesson.

"Mate," Al nudges me, "Just go up there and cast the bloody spell. It's not that hard."

I wince, yeah...I hadn't been doing that well of a job of resisting that temptation, "Uh, what spell?"

Al blinks a few times, staring at me for a moment before faceplanting on the desk, "You're hopeless."

"Scorpius?" Miss Jewel asks, and I turn back to her.

"I'd rather not…" I say awkwardly because I still don't know what the spell is.

"Oh, come on up Scorpius, don't be shy." She smiles, and I have no choice but to stand and walk shakily to the front of the room, "And for our other volunteer. Oh, thank you Miss Weasley for raising your hand," I can't help but wince again- of all people it's _her _that I have to duel with?

As Miss Jewel answers one of the students' questions, I nudge Rosie, "What's the spell?"

Rosie turns to me, her red curls brushing my face as she whips around, "The spell? Scor, were you paying _any _attention?"

_Yes, _I want to say, _to you and the color of your bloody hair. _Instead, I settled with a short, "No."

Rosie laughs and I want to hit myself because I really shouldn't find her laugh adorable. Who finds someone's laugh adorable? "It's just colloshoo, Scor. We learned it years ago." Oh Merlin did I feel stupid now. This was getting bad. I needed to start paying...a lot more attention to my surroundings.

"Okay, Scorpius, Rose, in dueling positions, please!" Miss Jewel said, grinning brightly.

Rosie smiles, kissing my cheek lightly before wishing me good luck. Honestly, I don't remember how I managed to get into dueling position because my mind is wiped completely blank. I swear, she does it on purpose. Miss Jewel counts down to 0 and Rosie fires a spell that misses me, and I cannot tell if this is on purpose or not. But she's called out, 'Colloshoo,' and I realize that this is the spell. But...I don't know what it does. What if it hurts her? I mean, Miss Jewel wouldn't allow us to cast anything _too _bad but it could be any kind of hex that could cause her pain. My moment of hesitation allow for her to cast the spell again, this time, not missing me. I immediately feel my feet stick to the ground and glance down at them with horror. Oh, I was in for it now. I'd never lost a duel before, especially with Rosie as my opponent. And now? Now I was literally _stuck. _How would I explain this? The class went silent. Even Miss Jewel was speechless for a moment, before coughing to break the eerie silence. "Well, uh, good job, Rosie, Scorpius. You may sit down now." She casts a counter-spell at my feet and I nearly stumble over as they unstick. Trying in vain to keep my face from turning red, I quickly walk back to my seat, sliding in next to Al. My so-called 'best friend' smirks and gives me a knowing look before I can even explain myself.

I glare at him, "Not one word." My head falls on my desk, and I curse my current stupidity. It will wear off, I know it will, because I have to be the Great Scorpius Malfoy, but currently, it's not helping my case. Al snorts next to me and I groan. I'll never hear the end of this phase, will I?

When we get out, Al claps my back, "Welcome to the world of liking girls my friend." My best friend is an idiot.

Shoving his arm off of my back, I scowl, "I've liked girls before," continuing to walk through the hallway.

"No, that's different," Al shakes his head and begins talking like he knows everything, "Then you liked their assets. Now, it's different. Because aren't her eyes just _so _pretty and isn't her smile just _so _bright?" So much for being a bloody best friend, Al's not helping this situation. I can't help but think of her bright blue eyes and her wide smile that could light up even the worst of a day, and her- "Scor?" Al asked, raising an eyebrow, "Were you just-" thinking about the dreaded minx when I was supposed to be conversing with her god-awful cousin? Yeah. Just a little bit.

"Merlin," I said heatedly, "Al you need to shut up and stop my traitorous heart even more reasons to find your bloody cousin attractive." I gripped my head- this was getting to be a bit too much, "Make it stop, Al…"

Al, the good _best friend _that he is, laughs and ruffles my hair, which he knows I despise. I've never run my hand through it myself, and I hex anyone who touches it, Al included. He's on the floor in two seconds flat and no one in the hallway even cares because this is a regular occurrence. Dylan, Frank, and Creevey have all ended up on the floor countless times as well- the lot of them never quite got that I didn't take too kindly to people touching my hair. The gits.

Later that day I find myself in the Heads Common Room along with Al, Frank, Dylan, and Creevey. We're in the middle of a rather vicious game of Exploding Snap when Rosie walks in with Alice, Frank's twin sister, and her best friend. Upon seeing the five of us and the cards, she raises an eyebrow, "Don't hurt yourselves _too _much."

I can't help but flush a little at the sight of her and it doesn't help that all my so-called friends nudge me when she speaks. I still manage to retain whatever charm I have left in me, and say something along the lines of, "We won't, no need to worry so much Rosie. Though I do appreciate it- your concern and love for me is quite endearing."

Rosie flushes as well, before barking out a laugh, "It's more of concern for the Common Room." She jokes, "Do your best _not _to burn it down, alright?"

The boys and I have never come anywhere near burning a place down, and I tell her this- "Not bloody likely we'll go _that _far." I pause for dramatic effect, "It'll just be your half."

Rosie rolls her eyes and opens her mouth to retort before abruptly closing it and letting a smirk spread across her face, "But lets save the bathroom, yeah? Merlin knows you love the memories."

I uncharacteristically flush, though by now, around her, it's rather common. My reply wavers slightly, but I manage to get the words out which gives me a moment of internal triumph, "Don't act like it wasn't planned Rosie-dear, perhaps you left the door unlocked on purpose." I finish nonchalantly, glancing down at my cards as I let my implication linger in the air.

She glares at me heatedly, "You _wanker. _I can't believe you have the _audacity _to allude to such a thing!" She huffs and crosses her arms and I can't help but find it incredibly cute. I curse her attractiveness for what seems the millionth time these past few weeks alone.

Al puts in his two cents- "You've got to get him back now Rosie. Do something he hates." I have half a mind to strangle Al where he sits.

"Oi, you git, you're supposed to be my friend!" I say, frowning. Who _wouldn't _want to be friends with me? I was Scorpius Malfoy after all, not some random bloke you could betray for the fun of it.

But Al's words had given Rosie an idea apparently, and she now crossed the room swiftly until she stood in front of me. I figured she was going to hex me or punch me or some violent action like such until her hand went to my hair and I nearly fell off my seat in surprise, "Bet you that you can't last 10 minutes with my hand like this." She quipped.

My hair was perfect the way it was without her messing it up, but I couldn't bring myself to tell her to knock it off because she doubted my capabilities. I was pretty sure my face was one of shock right now, so I quickly donned a smirk and played it off, "I could last more than 10 minutes Rosie-dear, don't underestimate the-"

"-great Scorpius Malfoy," Rosie rolls her eyes as she finishes my sentence, "We all know. Tell you what, if you last longer than 10 minutes, I'll actually write that biography. I'll even let you choose a title." Well, I wasn't going to pass that up. Plus, it'd be easy to last a short 10 minutes with her hand on top of my head- I wasn't that much of a perfectionist.

"And if you don't…" Rosie trailed off, her eyes alighting once she came across an idea, "You'll be telling me exactly what you thought during the incident." It was a good thing that I'd be able to last 10 minutes. I'd rather not tell her even part of what I'd thought- it was too humiliating to be voiced aloud.

"Fine," I agree, "But I'll be the one claiming my prize." I say to her before turning to Al, who's looking at me amusedly, "Start the count, will you?" And so, he does. Not even 5 seconds later, I'm regretting ever saying yes to this. Why? Because Rose _bloody _Weasley has taken to weaving her hand through my hair. And even though I'm supposed to hate anyone and everyone touching my hair, I don't mind when _she _does. In fact, I rather like it, which drives me up the wall. 2 minutes into it, she's practically massaging my head, slowly and sensually, and in a way that I'm starting to make it uncomfortable to sit. I try my best to actually focus on the game and not the minx sitting next to me, but I find it's rather hard to do. At the 7 minute mark, once I come out of a short daze, I figure that it's all well and good. That is, until her fingers brush the nape of my neck, decidedly warm against the coldness of my skin, and I shiver. Apparently, she notices this, and takes it as a go-ahead to do it again, and again, until all she's really doing is that. My grip on the table loosens and I can't help but lean back into her touch, and she takes the initiative to dip her hands underneath my collar ever so slightly, brushing her fingers against my tense back muscles and I just barely stop myself from making a noise I've never made in my life, and shoot up abruptly. My eyes, which I hadn't realized her close, are now wide, and my cards which have fallen to the floor long ago litter the ground. I can't help but glance at the guys who are laughing on the ground and Rosie who is smirking delightedly for a short second before flushing an even darker red and taking off for the Heads bathroom where I rush to remove my clothing and nearly jump into the pool of water. It's only then that I remember that I now have to tell Rosie what I was thinking the night of the incident, and that I'll probably wind up back in here after recalling it. It's only now that I realize who embarrassing it is to have a crush, and I can't help but feel bad for Rosie for all those years of liking me when I clearly paid her no mind in the romantic department other than trying to get her to write the biography. At this rate however, I'd probably be the one writing her biography. When had my life become so messed up?


End file.
